Twin Roses
by atsuibelulah
Summary: Snow White and Rose Red retold..twin girls live in a secluded cottage,what will they do when one finds unexptected love..two brothers deal with their neglectful father and courtly intrigue..how are these four connected? :[revised&completed]REVIEW PLEASE!
1. White Rose, Red Rose

A/N: This is a retelling of the grimm fairy tale "Snow White and Rose Red" I wrote it chapter by chapter over about a three month period. This is the revised version. Nothing much has changed plot-wise but I feel that much of the grammar and syntax (espsecially from the first four or five chapters) has been greatly improved. I would like to especially thank my own twin sister (who is a fantastic writer /pen name: laminsrose/ and will be attending the Alpha young writers workshop where famed author TAMORA PIERCE will speak YAYAYAY!) for helping me so much. I would also like to thank my previous reviewers **ElvenSilver, Glitterpoison, Athena Diagon Cat, littlelambug, Heather, and catakit**. So even if you are rereading (like I want you to) or if you are reading this for the first time...PLEASE REVIEW!

muah,

atsuibelulah ;D

Chapter 1

White Rose, Red Rose

We are compliments of each other, my sister and I. The morning after we were born, our ailing father went into the garden of our cottage in the mountains of the north and planted two rose-trees, one white and one red for one white baby girl and one red baby girl. We were mirror images of each other, except for our coloring. Her hair was white-blonde, her skin alabaster, her eyes two windows into a clear sky. My hair was a dark bronzed red, my skin glowing rosy, my eyes pools of shadow. These features have not changed since we were infants. My sister's name is Rhoswen. My name is Rhoslyn.

We were always most comfortable in the forest. There we are in our element. We are also most at ease when we are together. When we were old enough to understand such things, we made a pact to never grow too far away from each other. As young children, we played for hours under the shade of the trees, some of whose trunks I still cannot encircle with my arms. When we grew older, Wen enjoyed helping Mother with the housework and needlework, while I apprenticed with the town's midwife and general wise woman, and spending the rest of my time in our beloved forest, learning its many secrets.

The forest, the cottage, and, Coedbryn, the town a half-days walk south, were all that we knew of the world for much of our lives. Mother told us, when we were old enough to ask, that she and Father had journeyed north from the country of Eisgairdin in search of a more peaceful life. Shortly after they had settled in the cottage, Father became ill and his condition grew worse as the days grew shorter. We were born near midwinter, and Father died before spring touched the mountain. Mother never told us about the latter part of that winter and we never pressed her.

Mother also never spoke of their lives before the journey north either. However, unlike many of the inhabitants of Coedbryn, she was educated and took much care in making sure Wen and I were well learned and well spoken. The townsfolk always called her Lady or ma'am and they were very courteous to us. Although, they always kept us at a distance. This led Wen and I to believe that Mother and Father must have been important in the south, but we did not dwell on the matter. Our belief was always that Mother would tell us what we needed to know and the rest did not matter. As far as we were concerned, the forest was where we came from, the forest was where we would return, and the forest was all that mattered, until the Bear knocked on our door.


	2. Transformations

Chapter 2

Transformations

Memories of years past surged through my head as the change painfully ripped through my body, the magic that the most recent visitor to the court had used was primitive at best. I thought of Teirnan and what he would do now.

We grew miles apart, my brother and I. We were like enough in appearance as two brothers could be, sharing the waving blue-black hair -- his always cut fashionably short and mine long because of indifference -- and deep royal blue eyes that we must have inherited from our noble mother, for our father was a great red bear of a man. Ever since I was old enough to wish that I was someone other than myself I wanted to be more like Tiernan, until spring before his 16th birthday.

We had just entered at the rear of the Great Hall, talking quietly, when the voice of my Father, King Kail of Eisgairdin, echoed throughout his court, "Son, Prince Tiernan", he summoned my brother. This was the first time Father had addressed either of us in public. Ever since our Honored Mother's death, shortly after my birth, the royal children had barely even been spoken of at court. We were both expected to attend, but we were always told by our nannies and later out tutors never to speak. Naturally it was Teirnan he spoke to first, he was the elder.

"Your Majesty, Honored Father, I am at your esteemed service," Tiernan effortlessly turned on the courtly gush we had been cheerfully ridiculing only moments before, "You have only to utter your pleasure."

"Prince, you will journey with Us to the Castle Hafodan and stay for the coming summer," He told us and apparently the entire court for the first time and then immediately moved on to other business. I had not moved from the massive doorway and Teirnan had to walk back and physically drag me to our usual seats along the wall.

We sat silently as I marveled at this sudden hypocrisy in him. If it had been I who was so abruptly singled out by Father, I would have retorted either curtly or sardonically, even at the green age of 13, after I finished reeling from the shock. I suppose, looking back, that Teirnan had been as stunned as I, but he dealt with it differently. And once the stone began to roll he did not know how to stop it.

Later, as we were walking down the lavish castle corridor leading to Tiernan's private rooms, my stride slowed with the weight of the uncertain thoughts that had begun plaguing me as soon as we left the Great Hall. Tier had kept walking at our usual pace and was a few feet down the corridor when I finally voiced my reservations.

He turned around swiftly, his mood the complete opposite of my own, almost jovial. I could not tell if it was feigned or genuine as he pulled his hands behind his back and began walking backwards, still facing me. He spoke matter-of-factly as I sped up to hear him, "Well, you can not have thought he would ignore us forever, Mahon. I am the heir to the throne, and you after me. He must make sure Eisgairdin is left in what he believes to be the proper hands. We just have to humor him for a while. Do not worry brother, this trip will be fine, things are not going to change that drastically. You probably will not even notice I have gone. You always have your nose in one of those dusty old tomes anyway." With that Tier reached out and ruffled my hair out of the ponytail I had hastily tied before court and turned around, walking the few remaining steps into his chambers with an easy smile. I stood before his door for a moment, before following him inside, thinking about what he had said.

Even at that time, these remarks seem a trifle short sighted on Teirnan's part. Father could ignore _me_ as long as he liked, for he only needed the older son. Teir would have to humor Father for the rest of his life and I would most definitely notice his absence. We did everything together, always. However, I did not say any of these things. I suppose I just wanted to believe what my brother told me. So I went in, sheepishly told Tier I would miss him, and helped him pack his things silently.

He promised to write to me and the letters came regularly enough at the beginning, but gradually become more infrequent and the contents more distant and brief. They consisted of his daily courtly activities but nothing of what he thought of the place, as if he only wrote to me as an afterthought before he went to bed. Soon our correspondence stopped altogether.

I understood that Teirnan enjoyed the exclusive attention of the offspring of our father's cronies. We had both been starved for it during the long years of family and public negligence, but Tier always felt it more than me. I was contented studying with our tutor, Conroy, and wandering about the castle and its vast gardens with just my brother as my companion. But I often caught Tier looking longingly at the great hall or in the direction Father had led the hunt, and I saw it more often as we grew older. I felt the change when Father made his decree and I knew it in the look in Teurnan's eye when he turned his gaze on me as he dismounted in the courtyard on the day he returned. He would not be outside of the court any longer. He would turn his back on me if necessary. I became the only outcast prince of Eisgairdin.

The years passed by and I began to lock myself in a study adjoining the library that I decreed to be my own. Hardly anyone noticed or cared. Every once in a while I would contemplate swallowing my pride and joining Tiernan, he would undoubtedly welcome me. But I knew I could not abandon my moral opposition to the methods of Father's rule. There was no way they would accept me without the mask that I refused to don. I studied everything I could find and in the later years, after digging and pouring through everything in the main stacks, I delved into the dark shelves full of mystical tombs under the main floor. I tried to teach myself their contents, having nothing better to do, but most of my experimenting backfired with disastrous results, and I resorted to close reading and study.

I desperately missed the long discussions Teirnan and I would have with Conroy about the state of the land. Throughout our younger years we saw our Father's lack of governance and while we both were disgusted by his self-indulgence, Teirnan raged against it. We would discuss the proper rule of the land and he would go on for hours about the changes he would make when the rule fell to him. I once tried to ask him about one of our favorite discussion points but he turned his wide court smile on me and replied, "Come now, brother, it will be many years until our Honored Father leaves the court to me. He is young yet and we are more so. You should learn to lighten up, join us on the hunt tomorrow and enjoy the pleasures of the court. I'm sure our Honored Father would be pleased to see his second son in attendance, for you so rarely grace us with your presence."

I felt my heart wrench in my chest as the cold courtly phrases sweetly spilling from my passionate brother's mouth. I marveled at the drastic change in him and, for a moment, could not say anything in return. I must have looked as though I'd seen a ghost as I slowly backed away from him, shock and hurt taking hold of my features and twisting them into a stone mask. "Honored Brother," I softly intoned, the first words I ever uttered in the courtly vernacular, "I am undoubtedly overjoyed that you would think of me joining the hunt, however, I find I am called back to my studies by the neglected cries of our people. My only hope is to try to alleviate them before they disturb the quiet seclusion of you and your precious court." I let a triumphant smile play over my mask as I saw Teirnan's drop at the silken harshness of my words and a guilt ridden version of his old countenance surface. I bowed gracefully before I turned my back on him.

After this episode I silently hoped I had gotten through to him. He tried to avoid me, but I would find ways to make my silently accusing presence known to him. I would stand at the back to the court's great hall, my gaze always lingering on him alone. I knew he felt my eyes, I knew he wished I was not there, and I knew I had broken through to his abandoned conscience that we both knew he possessed. If only I had had more time, now I will not know if my last message to him made any difference at all.

My front paws were sore already as I tore out of the great doors of Eisgairdin Castle. I had never used them before and I knew I had a long journey ahead of me.


	3. The First Guest

Chapter 3

The First Guest

I did not realize immediately that the Bear would so drastically change our lives. He came to our door on a normal winter's evening, not long after Coedbryn's midwinter celebrations. Lyn was grumbling and sulking at the same time in the far corner of the kitchen. She was doing something with her dried herbs, as was her habit when the snowstorms prevent her from reaching the forest. I sat watching her with a smile, paying minimal attention to the evening's spinning while mother read from one of the aged history books father had lugged up the mountain to our isolated home.

Strangely, the wind seemed to change direction and blow more forcefully, making the walls buckle and creak. We all looked up from our work and turned to each other, marvelling at the strength of the storm. We quickly turned to the door as we began to discern a soft thumping. It was slow and rhythmic, as though someone were methodically banging their head against the thick wood in desperation.

I turned to Mother for direction but Lyn was already on her way to the door. "Rhoslyn," Mother's strained voice stopped her, "do not open the door until I tell you." She walked swiftly to the corner, near the fire where we kept our collection of pokers, choosing the thickest and heaviest of the bunch. "Rhoswen, stand behind me. We have no idea what is behind the door. It could be a lost traveler, but it could also be a beast of the wood driven here by hunger and the storm. Rhoslyn, move behind the door as you open it, that way if we are attacked you can protect yourself with it. Alright," Mother poised the poker at the ready like broadsword or club and I stepped behind her. "Open the door."

Lyn firmly grasped the door handle and pulled, but the wind blew it from her grasp. She stumbled back into the room as the storm deposited a pile of snow into our cottage along with a half frozen black bear. He nearly fell into the center of the room and almost nervously cast his gaze about him as Lyn and I stood rigid with shock and the cold that was still blowing into the room. I was starting to back slowly towards the wall when Mother's welcoming voice broke through my mounting fear, "Oh poor Master Bear, you have come a long way and are nearly frozen. Please, sit yourself near the fire and my two daughters will brush the snow from your coat. Rhoswen, Rhoslyn, help make the Bear more comfortable."

I looked to Lyn, and her brown pools met my blue, both filled with uncertainty, and we turned to our mother. "Mother," Lyn's voice cracked, "how can you know he will not attack at any moment? Like you said before, he must be driven mad by the cold and hunger."

"My daughters, look into this poor creature's eyes. He does not mean us any harm." And with that, she turned to the fire and set the kettle to boil as Lyn and I looked at each other again. It was I who broke our stare first and fixed my gaze on the bear. He was actually on the small side, maybe no more than a cub, and was indeed covered in snow. He turned his face to mine and as our eyes met something went through me, I could feel the changes he would bring into our peaceful lives, but it did not fill me with foreboding. Instead, I sensed the beginnings of something entirely new. This feeling encompassed me and I knew his eyes were its source. They were a deep blue, almost purple, obviously a very unnatural color for a bear. Beginning to feel lightheaded, I swayed on my feet but I could not tear my gaze from him. His eyes widened as if in surprise and I felt Lyn grab my arm, steadying me.

"Wen, what is the matter? Are you alright?" I leaned toward her for support and looked into her face as I righted myself.

"Oh, I am alright. It must have been the fright from his arrival." I lied motioning toward our guest. It was a poor explanation and I could tell that she did not believe me. But at that moment I did not even want to think of what had passed between the two of us. "We should probably get him dried off before he soaks the floor." I suggested and gave her our long ago devised "drop it" look before going to the closet for some old blankets. She followed me, her face still full of concern as we rubbed down the bear.

"We must name him something." I stated irrationally between his growls of pleasure at our ministrations. I knew Lyn was just about to ask the very good question of why we would name a beast that was only staying for the night when, to my surprise, Mother broke in. I had nearly forgotten her presence and I wondered about her lack of concern when Lyn had made such a fuss over me.

"Yes, my dears, give him a name. He will need one, for I would have him stay as long as he likes." I closed my eyes and searched my mind for something appropriate, but not before seeing Lyn's astounded gaze search both Mother's and mine.

I dimly thought _She must not have looked him full in the face_, before settling on, "Thanos." I spoke the name quietly and felt all the eyes in the room turn to me. Suddenly I was enormously tired so I bid them goodnight and slowly climbed up to the loft bedroom Lyn and I shared. I heard Lyn's earnest questioning of Mother and Mother's soft but curt answers before I drifted into slumber. _Lyn will be up soon_, I thought. Whether or not Mother knew anything about what had passed between Thanos and I, she was obviously as close-mouthed as ever and Lyn would not press her long.

Thanos slept before the fire that night and for many nights afterward. When the storm passed Lyn escaped the surreal situation in the cottage by staying in the forest and cultivating her winter herbs. She would leave for hours and not return until supper. If it had been any other winter I would have gone with her, but there was the puzzle of Thanos. I wanted, needed to understand him. I would help Mother with her housework and chores while keeping one eye on the Bear's movements. He would most often be resting near the fire, but every once in a while I saw him move to his feet and amble about the single room of the cottage, exploring. I knew that Lyn did not understand Mother's hospitality or my preoccupation with Thanos and resented his presence. I didn't understand either, but I was an active participant, although I could not explain my actions to her.

It took me weeks to gather my courage and approach him. He rose when he heard me drawing near, and I stood in front of him as he lay next to the fire. I knelt and looked at his face, but he would not meet my eyes. I now knew for certain he had felt the same as I had that first night, I had to know what it was.

"You are not afraid, are you, Thanos?" I had barely finished the question before his eyes darted to meet my own. The feeling was different than the first night. Before, it was sudden and unnerving, now it was peaceful and comforting. I could feel his concern that we had done something dangerous, and I found myself placing a soothing hand on the side of his snout. He softly huffed and I felt his warm breath as he relaxed and leaned into my palm. I looked closer at his eyes and saw that they were different somehow as Lyn threw open the door and stomped her frozen feet onto the entrance mat, Thanos swiftly looked away.

"You would not believe my bad luck, Wen," she cried. "Just when I thought this horrid winter was going to break it freezes over again. Now the spring sprouts are already turning brown. I shall have to…"

"Lyn, the plants survived just fine before you came to the mountain, you will coddle them and they will wither when you are no longer there." Mother's voice penetrated her frustrated outburst as I realized what was different about Thanos' eyes.

"Don't be silly, Mother. Why would we leave the mountain?" Lyn asked and at the same time I breathed, "They are turning brown." Thanos' startlingly blue eyes were slightly ringed with brown from the outer side, as though the brown was seeping in from his fur.

"Yes, Wen. I have established that the sprouts are going to turn brown." Lyn returned and I had the sudden feeling he would take me from the mountain, at least. I knew I would follow Thanos when he left, if only to solve his puzzle.


	4. A Departure, An Arrival

Chapter 4

A Departure, An Arrival

My thoughts weighed heavily on me as I left the cottage as early as usual, nearly two months after the bear had come. I thought of how strange Wen had been acting, her tendency to become distracted from spinning, gazing listlessly at a random corner of the room or, more often, at the bear. I thought for a long time that she was ill, but when I questioned her she told me she was not and said nothing more. She had become as close-mouthed as Mother, and I found myself filling the silence with banal chatter about the signs of spring approaching. Wen and I had never kept secrets before, but I knew there was something she was not telling me.

As I walked deeper into my green refuge I recalled the evening I had come home and griped about the return of the frost. I remembered that Wen was near the fire, in front of the bear, and had been concentrating rather hard on something before my entrance distracted her. Was she forming some sort of bond with the beast? I threw my hands in the air in frustration. _If only she would tell me_, I thought, _oh, I hate her silence_. I reached one of my favorite trees in the forest. It was a great oak that had stood there for centuries. Wen and I called her the Duchess though she was not the largest of the trees in the forest, but she had grown stately and graceful. We had spent many long hours underneath her shade and within her branches. I stepped up to the wide trunk and spread my arms around her, resting my forehead on her bark, made cool by the moisture of the coming spring. I would often do this when I wanted to collect my thoughts. More often, Wen and I had measured our growth by each embracing one side and seeing how close our hands were to touching. The last time we measured, our hands had grasped each other's firmly. The feel of her porcelain white hands in mine and our arms tight around the great Duchess made me complete. That day, I felt such a sense of maturity and closeness with Wen, and now I could feel both slipping through my fingers.

Suddenly I heard her cry, from behind me, the direction of home, "No, you cannot!" And I turned on my heel and ran out of the trees. _Mother has gone to Coedbryn_, I thought, _she is alone. Has the beast turn on us at last?_ I knew this was unfair, but I could think of nothing else as the cause of Wen's distress. When I neared the cottage I saw the Bear determinedly ambling out of the doorway and down through Mother's vegetable garden. Wen was scrambling after him, pulling desperately on his fur. She seemed to be trying to turn his head around to face her. I came to a stop at the entrance to the front garden as Wen spoke again, this time calmer, "I shall go with you then, Thanos."

My heart skipped a beat at her words. _Leave_, I thought, _for the bear?_ My mind raced back to that same day, the day the frost returned was the day she had changed. She had been distracted since the bear came, but that day she had become more distant. It was as though I had my arms wrapped around her in sleep and she was slowly removing herself from my unconscious embrace. She had nearly succeeded before I awoke. I suddenly realized the implications of her statement. The entirely foreign prospect of her leaving frightened me enormously. What if she were not to return? I would be alone. I knew in my soul that I could not allow her to leave me, it was selfish but it was also self-preservation. "Wen," I shouted, "What are you talking about? Why would you go with him?" as the Bear slowly turned around to face her. I saw their eyes meet and knew they had formed a bond, that she had without any doubt meant what she said. I shouted again at her, "Wen, promise me you will not go with him! Don't leave the mountain, don't leave the forest, don't leave me! Sister, promise me!" I nearly screamed at her for her gaze still did not break from the bear's.

The beast himself broke their silent conversation. He turned to me and our eyes met for the first time. I searched the unusually blue-brown depths for the magic my sister had discovered there and knew that I could not find it. But I could discern a near humanity in them and I felt that he did not want her to leave either. As I was searching his face he slowly approached me and I finally stepped aside to let him pass, allowing my eyes turn to my mirror, my light side.

"Oh, my dear, you will know more than I what he wants. I am sorry I did not see before what has happened between you. I cannot pretend to understand it, but I am sure you will tell me when you are ready. Let him go, he will return. I know it." I spoke these words softly as I neared her. Wen was not looking at me. I saw her eyes follow the Bear as he went into the green. I concentrated all of my attention on her, feeling the frustration emanating from her, like she would shatter at any second.

"You do not know that he will return," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I do not know it, how can you? He has some dangerous task. That I know, and you have prevented me from aiding him."

"Wen!" I cried, "He did not want your aid. I know that he only wants your safety, how could he allow you to come if it so dangerous? He is a noble beast. You should not belittle his sacrifice…whatever it is." That last part I said quitetly, in order to soften the blow. I knew she was hurting and had only lashed out at me from frustration and loss. It was something she needed to hear. I was ready when she turned and crumpled, sobbing into my shoulder.

When she was composed enough, she spoke these words softly into my tear soaked chest, "This would not be so difficult if I only understood the nature of these feelings that have grown so quickly. How can I hold such an intense love for an animal? But how can I call him that when I have seen his intelligent reactions to what just happened? There have been many days that I doubted my sanity, because you never noticed Thanos' strangeness. But you have now…you have looked into his eyes?" We had long before sunk to the cold stone of the cottage's entrance. Wen was nearly lying in my lap. She pulled slightly away from me, looking questioningly into my face.

"Yes," I said solemnly, "they are not the eyes of a normal bear. I could not speculate, though, on what that means."

"They used to be more strange. They were the most glorious shade of blue the first night…when I nearly fainted. Lyn, they are turning brown. Our…connection was never as strong as the first night. It is as if the bear part of him is seeping into his eyes…what can that mean? What if? …oh this is making both my head and heart ache." She pressed her face into my lap and I let one hand fall to her trembling shoulders and the other to press into her silken curls, the color of wool left unspun.

I leaned my tired back into the doorframe, "Wen, we must leave Thanos to his own devises. Regardless of his origins, he is a beast of the forest, it is his element. I am sure he will be fine. Let us go into the house. You must be weary, I will make you something warm to drink and you can get some sleep. I will do your chores for today, Mother will not be shorthanded." I helped her up and into bed and puttered around the house until Mother's arrival later in the evening. She would often go to Coedbryn for the day, to hear news of the countries in the south and buy things we could not make or find in the forest.

When she entered I did not wait until she put down her basket to flatly state, "The Bear left today." I took her in, curling red hair, lightened with sun and age, still thin from life on the mountain but slightly shorter than Wen and I, and her familiar kind face. I had guessed long ago it masked pain and secrets she felt she needed to protect us from.

"Oh?" she returned.

"Come Mother," I kept my voice low but intense in an attempt to let Wen sleep through the coming arguement, "You knew he would. Wen is distraught. You knew that would happen, too. I know that you know things that you are not telling us, I know that you think you need to protect us, but don't you realize she will be hurt the same anyway? Maybe even more! If you know anything Mother, please!"

At that she stepped into the room and pulled me tightly to her, "Oh my darling, my Rhoslyn, my darkling, there is nothing I can tell you that would help either you or her in anyway. It would only add to your confusion. We can only wait and watch for the real answers to come to us." She pulled back and turned towards the loft where I had left Wen, "I shall go talk to her, dear, would you fix me something small to eat. The baker's wife kindly gave me some lunch this afternoon but I have grown hungry from the walk. Make something for yourself also, I know you have not eaten anything." And she calmly began climbing the step ladder to Wen.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, Mother and I ate silently and later I silently climbed into bed with Wen, slipping my arms comfortingly around her before drifting off to sleep. My dreams were a haze of green and red and deep, deep blue.

I woke the next morning, tired and groggy. I knew that I would not feel right until I was immersed in the life of the forest. I quickly donned my clothes and climbed down to the main floor of the cottage, dimly registering Wen toiling like mad in the kitchen. _She is probably trying to divert herself… how alike we are_, I thought with a half smile as I grabbed a fresh biscuit and nearly ran out the door and into the green. I decided, since I was looking for a diversion, to aggressively weed one of the many patches of wild herbs I kept throughout the forest. I settled on one at the edge of a large clearing, farther into the wood. As I silently picked my familiar way through the dense trees a wave of unease spread over me and I grew wary. Years spent in the wood had trained me to know when there was danger, but that was not what I sensed. The sounds of the forest had faded and as I neared the glade a foreign color appeared at the edge of my vision. After breaking out of the barrier of trees, a gasp of shock and horror escaped my lips as my gaze fell upon the form of a man, lying dead or unconscious in a still pool of his own blood.


	5. First Born

Chapter 5

First Born

_I will keep my promise to him. I must keep my promise. _Those words echoed in my mind as I stood in the center of my Honored Father's Great Hall, the stench of magic and treachery still lingering. The court faces I had grown to know turned to me questioningly. After what had just transpired I was certain they would never do the same to my Father again. As they waited for my hesitant direction, my thoughts turned back to my sixteenth birthday when Father indirectly decreed I would take my place in his stagnant court. When I arrived at Castle Hafodan I was only planning on humoring a few of Father's extravagant whims. I would become one of the fifty nameless courtiers on Father's countryside hunts, one of the faceless partygoers, one of those voiceless under Father's booming opinions. I would return home and continue my exile with Mahon until Father realized his mortality. I did not count on the opinions of the nameless, faceless, and voiceless.

Because Mahon and I had been kept from them, the children of the Lords and Ladies of the court had been curious about us for their entire lives. Mahon was much better at dealing with their undisguised interest than I. He did not care at all about the opinions of others, I however, always found myself aware of their scrutiny. Maybe it was the prospect of the future kingship, maybe it is just in my nature. I have always known about my need for acceptance, and yet I still allowed it to change my actions.

At Hafodan I became a mystery man, someone everyone wanted to know everything about. At their queries I suddenly became shy of my sheltered background of study. I looked at their extravagant court clothes and masked court faces and knew they would shun me if I was not as they were. So I put on the mantle of the court favored prince and the mask of the courtier, if only it had stayed a mask.

In the beginning, I attempted to approach Father with the ideas Mahon and I had formed in regards to the troubles of the nation. After these attempts, I was repeatedly told to mind the business of court and leave the "governing" to him in his growling voice, so like that of the great red bear he was often compared to. Trying to placate Father, I did as he asked and spent my time participating in the activities of the court. The younger members did not discourage me, so long that I did not broach subjects they did not care about. Once, when I was on a long hunt with several young lords, I quietly asked about one of the decisions my Father had made before the court a few days prior. As I recall, it was a justice case, a local man against a merchant who was obviously cheating him. My Father sided with the merchant, a good friend of one of his favored Lords.

Alan, a second son, who was known for his popularity with the ladies of the court, answered first, "What brought on this discussion, Teirnan? To tell you the truth, I hardly ever listen to the court proceedings. My mind usually lies on other things."

It felt as though they all turned their questioning, doubting eyes on me, and I knew none of them would share my interest in governing. Those who were born to it would do as they must, so as to keep their positions. What I had noticed however, was that most of the young people at court were second and third sons, and not the heirs. I hoped with my heart and soul that the first born were keeping the provinces safe in their Lords' absence at Father's behest.

Keene, one of the most popular at court, spoke next, "Yes, Prince, I thought you would have been preoccupied with the roving doe eyes of Lady Catrin. Be careful, T, or you will catch up with Alan here." I, being my Father's son, was by right the highest ranked among the young court, Keene was the highest respected. He never let me forget it, and I, in my quest for acceptance, allowed him to keep his dominance. I dropped the subject, and quietly decided not to pick it up again. Soon, my attitude began to change.

Day after day of my newly acquired peer acceptance and Father's courtly extravagance lulled me into a state of complacence. What did I care of the troubles of the populace? It would be many years before Father handed the reins of the country to me and I could wait and deal with his negligence then. The only thing that worried me was Mahon's reaction to my change of mind when I returned to Eisgairdin. Even then, my conscience was gnawing at the back of my mind, yet I dulled myself to the pain it caused me, and to the pain I caused Mahon.

When I returned home, I tried to behave with the court as I had at Hafodan, this meant leaving Mahon behind. Looking back, it did not trouble me as much as it should have. But again, I was caught up in their games and did not look any deeper. Where I only found acceptance, Mahon saw the manipulation and exploitation of those around me. I did not see it clearly until it was too late. He must have perceived it as he watched me dismount and reenter Eisgairdin the day of my return. I remember the look of rejection and disbelief on his face as he stood next to Conroy, our old boy-hood tutor. At the time I thought it only some kind of jealousy. Oh, how the high and mighty can fall.

After my return, and the seasonal relocation of the court, matters settled into a routine. I was wherever it was most convenient for Father and the court and Mahon disappeared into the library and the catacombs with Conroy, now his near equal in scholarship, emerging only to eat and beat the dust from his clothes every day or so. Years passed, in this way. He may have thought I was solely concerned with the court, which was mostly true, but I did keep track of his activities. At the time, I made the excuse that I was watching out for him, making sure he did not get into trouble. This was another aspect of my imprisoned conscience, my cowardly way of being with Mahon when my pride and my disguised shame would not allow me to approach him.

It was he who finally tried to bridge the gap I had forged between us. He approached me with one of our old discussion points as I was standing in the entryway before the Great Hall, awaiting the day's court proceedings with Keene and some of his lackeys. Instantaneously and without thinking to who I was speaking, only in whose company I was, I spewed forth a silky court reply. I can barely even recall what it was that I said to him, but I saw his respect for me shatter as his lips returned the same poison, only it was accusing and righteous, as I always should have been to the followers of my Father's court, "I find I am called back to my studies by the neglected cries of our people. My only hope is to try to alleviate them before they disturb the quiet seclusion of you and your precious court."

My jaw dropped and my heart fell in my gut with a nearly audible thud as I stared at him, still reeling from having my own hypocrisy thrust in my face. I knew what I should have been doing all that time, what Mahon would have done, had he been in my place, what I still could not bring myself to do. To my disgrace, later, after Mahon had taken his leave, I laughed with my "friends" about him and his "self-righteous and melodramatic" ways.

However, after that Mahon did not leave me alone. He would follow my every move, he would go to court, not participating, and he would follow after the hunt. His eyes followed me and I felt their gaze become as judgmental as those of the court. I knew what he thought of me and my choices, and again, in my pride, I could not face him. I attempted to pretend he wasn't there, but he was unmovable, waiting for me to come to him. My popularity among my "friends" had begun to slowly wane as a result of my constant distraction. This probably would have continued indefinitely if it were not for the events of my twenty-first birthday.

Father had been, of course, planning an extravagant celebration, one I had actually nearly forgotten about because of Mahon's distracting behavior. The whole event was actually kind of strange. Father had never thrown a party for either of his offspring. The first time he mentioned the affair, it took me a moment to comprehend what he was saying. Even then, with the pressure of the battle between my conscience and my pride, I could not have cared less about it. I began developing terrible headaches. I lost large quantities of sleep. Consequently, I was in poor condition to be the guest of honor at a court banquet, but what Father wanted, he always got.

I could not accurately describe the first two or three hours of the party, I was occupied with desperately trying not to think about or look at Mahon, and failing quite spectacularly. I believe I was sitting on the dias in a grand chair slightly lower than Father's throne, hunched over my knees with my head in my hands. My head throbbing, the myriad of torch lights searing my eyes, I thought, _This is killing me_, _I must go speak to Mahon, I cannot let my pride rule me any longer. I must rule Eisgairdin someday. I cannot let the opinions of spoiled lordlings or my own damn pride get in the way of my responsibilities. How could I have let this go on for so long? _I raised my head, searching for Mahon, among the revelers. I quickly spotted him, leaning against the wall on the far side of the Great Hall, as we had so often as boys. As our eyes met, I tried to pour as much regret and sorrow as I could into my face, when suddenly a booming voice, rough and harsh, filled the hall and the massive doors swung violently apart.

"Kail of Eisgairdin, I have come to collect my payment," the voice came louder than even Father's own and echoed several times about the chamber followed by the thumping sound of large footsteps. I heard a shifting of fabric and turned to look questioningly at Father. He sat bolt upright in his lavish throne, with a slightly guilty cast on his ghostly white face. I turned swiftly back to the front of the hall where a surprisingly short figure approached the dias. I realized he must have been using magic of some kind to magnify the sound of his entrance. This was not someone to dismiss lightly. He was heavily cloaked, and held a great weapon in his right hand. I looked closer and saw it was an axe, but the deadly blade protruded from a large orb, golden and bejeweled, like a royal scepter.

The figure abruptly stopped a few feet before Father's throne, made a swift gesture, and the cloak fell from his body, slashed into ribbons. He was half as tall as I, but muscularly built, with enough fat on his frame to suggest opulent living. He wore well made and well used leather armor, studded with more gold and jewels. A gray beard hung to his waistband, but his face did not look weathered from great age. He began speaking in the same rough and gravelly voice, however this time it was not magnified, "To you I gave the highest wish of any man, King Kail of Eisgairdin, born Brody, son of generations of sheepherders in the hills to the east. Now I will have what you promised me so long ago. I will have your eldest son to entertain the lords of my court." At that he turned a cruelly smiling face on me. And I again, foolishly, looked for guidance from my father, the king. He was still staring straight ahead, ghostly white, and his lips began to move but no sound was produced. His large, beast like body, seemed to shrink in on itself and he became frail and worn. I was hardly surprised by the revelation that he was not of noble blood, but many members of the court wore looks of outrage and disgust on their faces. I realized they would never follow him again, he was not good enough of a king for them to forget his dubious origins, and he could not accept their impending rejection.

I knew he would not defend me, so I prepared to defend myself. I saw Mahon moving closer to the dias out of the corner of my eye as I faced the intruder again.

"Visitor to the noble house of Eisgairdin," I began slowly, and the stranger snorted. I ignored the jibe and continued, not thinking for a minute he would oblige me, "What court is it that you would have me entertain? Perhaps we can arrange a meeting of diplomacy."

He let out a barking laugh that seemed to echo for several minutes afterward, "Oh, Prince, what a jester you will make! To think you have never heard of the Dwarven Court? The Halls of the Underground? I am Damek, King of the Dwarves. Your father, the Eisgairdin King, sold your life to me for a sack that held an unlimited amount of gold before you were conceived. On this day I told him I would return for my price, I will leave here with you…unless you are willing to make another wager. I do enjoy a good one."

When he finished I turned to the lunatic sitting next to me and accused, "You had an unlimited supply of gold for longer than I have been alive and you did not use it to feed your starving people?" He did not answer me, I did not expect it. "You could have made this country into the most prosperous civilization in the history of man. If you had done something worth while with your bargain I would have gladly gone with him, but you squandered it. You are more of a fool than I could have thought." I turned from him, disgusted, back to the maniacal grin of the Dwarf King.

"This is already most amusing. Come Prince, you will not go with me gladly. What will you offer?"

After a moment of contemplation, I returned, "A son should not be punished for the sins of his father, allow me to prove myself. Throw me a challenge, King of Dwarves, I will prove my worth over that of my father and your court will have their entertainment." I knew I was taking a risk. He could do anything he wanted with me now, but I had to solidify the court's loyalty to the sons of their long dead Queen. If they thought us worthy they could look past their fallen king. If I did not succeed at the task, I would pave the way for Mahon's reign. At least I knew he would put our old dreams to action, I could not even be so sure of myself.

"Ah, this is better than I could have hoped. Here is my challenge, Prince, for a year and a day you must prevent my forces from stealing that which you treasure most. Before you think of tricking me, know that I have ways of discerning this. If you succeed, you may keep your kingdom, and the gold your father has undoubtedly secreted somewhere on these premises," he pronounced. "Do you accept?"

"I do," I replied, mildly surprised at the simplicity of his trial. "When do I begin?"

"I will give you one day to collect your treasure before beginning my hunt. Oh," he paused, the cruel smile returning to his lips, crinkling the brow above his coal black eyes. "I would not want you to forget the reason for this challenge. Your poor, fool of a father. What was it that they called him when he first wed the Dark Lily of Eisgairdin, whom you so resemble? Ah yes, Kail the Bear." At this I felt a strange wind pick up in the windowless Great Hall. My vision seemed to shift slightly, whirling towards the Dwarf King who had begun to swing his large weapon straight at me. "I believe a change will make this challenge much more interesting. You, my fool of a Prince, will resemble your father as you never thought possible."

The Dwarf King swung his scepter around in an arc, and I felt my insides twist, when suddenly, Mahon stepped directly between us, saying words and making gestures I could not identify. The Dwarf King paused, mid swing and narrowed his eyes at Mahon.

When he again spoke intelligibly, my brother's words to the intruder were labored and breathless, as if he had just done something strenuous and I quickly wondered what it was he had been studying for the past years. "I will not allow you to rob Eisgairdin of its rightful monarch, earth dweller. Teirnan!" he cried desperately, turning his body to face me, "Rule it kindly, rule it justly, rule it well." He spoke again to the dwarf, but did not take his eyes from my own, "I take the challenge for my own," his face contorting in pain, but looking again on the intruder, he displayed an ironic smile, "You cannot undo it now, unless the challenge is completed or abandoned. You have not the skill, and neither have I. You see, we are both charlatans."

The dwarf's face betrayed his anger and incompetence, "One brother is as good as the other for a jester, second-born. It will make no difference," he returned and Mahon let out a scream of agony. I watched stupefied and horrified as, falling to his hands and knees, Mahon's rich court garb burst into shreds and his body mutated, contorting wildly in awkward directions before settling into the form of a black bear. I had not realized until that moment what the Dwarf King had meant by his earlier cryptic remarks. I cried out, and tried to rush to him, but the voice of the Dwarf King brought me to a halt, "Second-born, I know your treasure. You have one day to conceal it, before I begin my hunt for it and you. Keep watch for my lords and I, we will have great sport with you." He turned and began laughing as he leisurely strolled out of the hall, "A family of fools indeed."

The great doors swung shut once more as Mahon, turned and looked to me. I could see sorrow, but also brave determination in his still royal blue eyes. They were the eyes that he and I shared, the eyes of our mother, the Dark Lily. I had forgotten the people had once called her that, before Father had turned the court from the public. I no longer wondered why he had done so. He had been paranoid about the truth of his birth being discovered. I realized Father and I were more alike than I had ever thought. _I should have been transformed_, I thought, _I am already like him on the inside_.

"Mahon," I began, "You should not have taken my place! The challenge was meant for me. You should not have even been involved. I am so sorry." I paused for a moment and softly uttered, "I promise, I will do ask you asked."

He solemnly nodded, turned and broke into a ground-eating lope, down the Hall and out the doors that had been re-opened to let in the late-coming soldiers. "Let him go!" I shouted to them when they tried to prevent him, thinking he was the reason they had been summoned, "He is not to be hindered." The faces of the court turned to me questioningly, my disgraced father, ignored. I began putting the government back in order.

It took me nearly a week to get a grasp on Father's methods of governing, for he had never bothered to tell me his practices. I was mildly glad that he didn't. I think I would have cheerfully murdered him after he explained his unknowing negligence to me. I should not have been surprised, he was never supposed to be a king anyway. Dealing with the tangled layers of advisors and undersecretaries that never ended up with anything becoming accomplished was not easy. Matters were made more difficult by my broken sleep patterns that had not returned to normal, after Mahon's departure.

I became haunted by dreams of Mahon dying violently, the anguished cries of a woman with white hair and the tears of the same woman, now with hair that was a deep red. My headaches became more acute, never ceasing. I became convinced that Mahon was in danger of some kind, that there was something else he needed to know. I realized that a year of living that way would have killed me. I could never have kept my promise unless I first tried to aid him somehow.

It was midsummer when Mahon was first transformed. I was not able to leave Eisgairdin with certainty that the city would not be burning when I returned before the coming of autumn. Conroy had again gained my respect and that of many others in the few months following my Father's mental demise and I left him in charge of keeping the Lords from killing or warring each other as I set out, alone, from my kingdom, going North in search of my brother. I searched through all of the autumn and most of the winter, making my way slowly through the hills and then the forests of the high mountains, stopping in every town, inquiring about strange bear sightings. I believe most of them thought I was mad, and only a few would give me shelter for long. But despite the hardship, I did not lose my resolve to find Mahon and help him in the task that should have been mine.

When spring came, I found myself deeper into the forests of the northern mountains than I had ever been. The weather had broken, so I had taken to sleeping on the ground, under the stars and the canopy of the forest. One particular night, the temperature dropped farther than I had expected, so I took shelter in a large hole in the ground next to a great oak tree at the edge of a large clearing and promptly fell asleep.

I was awoken in the middle of the night by a familiar laugh emanating from the back of my shelter. I repositioned myself to investigate this sound and discovered a narrow tunnel from which I could see a soft light. In my state of half wakefulness, I unthinkingly crawled into it. I recognized the laugh coming from it, but could not remember from where. Suddenly more laughter joined the first, a voice shouted jovially above them all and I realized where my travels had brought me, "Yes, comrades, the fool spent the winter with a bumpkin widow and her two daughters. You ask how I know this, since none of you could locate him?" he paused dramatically then continued, pride and malice in his voice, "What he does not know and you have not thought of is, his most prized treasure can change and I will know of it. The fair daughter of the widow has been placed above all things in our bear-man's heart. He goes to protect the jewels of his dead mother, buried in the winter's hard ground so we could not dig it up, but we will take his true treasure from him before he realizes that is what she has become."

I listened to the Dwarf King's plan and knew that this was what my dreams called me to Mahon's aid for. I could not let his new love be taken by the king, the challenge would be lost, the kingdom taken back, and he would be left a bear forever. Suddenly, the dwarf's servant added more wood to the bonfire, illuminating the corner of his court where I had hid myself.

Every pair of piercing dark eyes in the cave turned to me and the Dwarf King smiled again as he motioned for two of his lords to drag me before the fire, directly across from him, "Ah Prince, how kind of you to join us in the Halls of my Underground. I am sure that you enjoyed the information I just imparted to you and I know what you plan to do with it. But, you now know too much of my affairs, Prince. So I will take from you the use of your tongue and the use of your hands." He began swinging his scepter in the same motion as our previous encounter and he asked, "How can you warn your brother if you cannot write or speak? How ironic that you as well as the bear would provide me and mine with such entertainment."

He swung his scepter faster and faster as I began to feel a sharp tingling in my mouth and my hands. It was as if invisible sharp wires were twining themselves around my tongue and palms and fingers, imbedding themselves in my skin. The Dwarf King stopped his circular motion and pointed his weapon at my heart. The unseen wires seemed to be attached to it somehow and they instantly dug themselves deeper causing me to cry out hoarsely. He pulled back sharply, and the wires pulled with the scepter. I felt my muscles and flesh rip and tear and tears of failure and pain came to my eyes as I tried to scream. The last thing I remember before hitting the floor was the laughter of the Dwarf King and his court as a river of blood flowed from my open mouth and mangled hands.


	6. The Second Guest

Chapter 6

The Second Guest

My initial reaction to the sight of the body lying across the clearing from where I stood was to get as far away as possible before whatever had attacked him came after me. Self-preservation was forefront in my mind until I noticed that the red pool was not still. It rippled slightly, rhythmically, every few seconds. _He is breathing_, I thought suddenly and bolted to his side. But once I reached him I stopped dead. These were not wounds from a random act of violence, human or beast. His hands had been sliced open in strips. The cuts were inches deep, nearly to the bone and blood dripped steadily out of his slightly open mouth. He had been tortured.

Looking closer, I could tell the man was only unconscious but I did not know what it would take to rouse him. Deciding that it would be best to bind his still seeping wounds as quickly as possible, I tore a strip of white cloth from my apron and slowly leaned in to wrap his right hand. As soon as I touched him, his eyes flew open and darted up at me, but I could tell they did not really see for a look of pure terror washed over his features as he began moving backwards, attempting to flee. My heart began to ache for him as I realized what would happen, but I knew my interference would only frighten him more, so I prepared myself for his painful scream. I did not expect the horrible gurgle that was accompanied by a spray of fresh blood as he tried to push himself to his feet with his ruined hands.

I cried aloud in surprise before whispering, "Oh, you poor man, they have taken your tongue." I had no idea who "they" was but I could come to no other conclusion and my soft pity seemed to reach him. He had fallen on his back because of the pain from his hands. Again lying on the leaf-cushioned ground, he focused his eyes on my face and with relief I gave him a warm smile. I knew that I should keep speaking to make sure he stayed concentrated on me and not on the pain he was undoubtedly enduring. "Please," I began, "come with me to my mother's cottage, it is not far from here," but I ceased when he sat up and a vague look of recognition passed over his features as he tried to say something, only succeeding in producing weak groaning sounds and coughing more blood upon the forest floor.

Moved by his pain, I rushed to his side. No longer caring about his fright, I pressed my white apron to his mouth, making shushing noises and cradling his head with my free hand. His eyes widened in surprise, our faces were mere inched apart as I pleaded, "Please, let me take you to my home and bind these wounds. You will die if you do not come with me. There is no other shelter for miles." I paused, "Do you understand?" I asked this not just to get him to go, but also to discern if he also sustained some kind of head injury. He nodded slightly, but in the action swayed forward then back and would have fallen if I had not clutched him more tightly. _He must be weakening from blood loss_, I thought, but assured him, "You will be fine, it is not far. Can you stand?"

He tried to lever himself to his feet, but brushed his hands once again on the ground, gasping aloud. I cried, "Oh! No, no, I will support you. Do not use your hands," and grasped his forearms. Concentrating hard, he moved his feet underneath him and I did the same. We shifted to our knees and stood together. Still without speaking, I stepped from in front of him to his side, positioning his arm across my shoulders and wrapping mine around his waist, all the time keeping my eyes on his face. He had closed his own, and I could tell even the movement of the air past his gaping wounds caused him great pain. I gripped his forearm firmly and waited for him to find his center. The blood still trickled from his mouth. I imagined he was now swallowing much of it to spare me the sight of more. His efforts hardly made a difference, for my clothes were almost completely stained red from crawling about the pool. I knew his blood had also gotten in my hair even though its red was barely discernable from my own color.

He finally opened his eyes and turned his agony stricken face to mine. I gave him a reassuring smile and asked, "Are you ready?" He gave the same slight nod as before and we stepped forward together. It was slow going, even at first. I had only been walking for about two minutes on my way to the clearing, but I knew that it would take us much longer. With every succeeding step, he grew more tired, more unstable, and soon I was supporting nearly all of his weight and more often than not his chin was rested on the top of my head. I stopped to rest only a few times, I was filled with such urgency. I still do not know from where I pulled the strength to make that trek through my beloved wood, leaving a trail of his blood in our wake.

As we neared the edge of the forest he was also beginning to grow delirious, for he started trying to speak again causing more blood to ooze from his mouth and into my face, blurring my vision with a haze of red. Through the long trek he had been moving his feet slowly parallel to mine, but at that point he stumbled and we both almost went down. I gritted my teeth with the effort to keep upright and started dragging him. He let out an anguished moan as my hand began to slide up to his wrist, nearing the gaping slashes. I knew I could no longer support him and gently lowered his frame to the forest trail floor. "I cannot drag you any farther," I gasped. His eyes were closed and he did not respond, but still I went on, "But you can see my home from here. Wait and I will return with someone to help me." I turned quickly from him and dashed down the short trail to the front door, screaming for mother or Wen.

Wen came to the door first, flour still on her hands and apron, making her look like a specter from the next world. I shook my head, trying to banish all thoughts of death and cried, "Help me!" as I reached for her arm, pulling her a few steps down the walkway. But before I could turn back around, she grabbed my shoulders in alarm, "Lyn, my god, what happened? Where are you injured?" She began moving her hands, checking me for wounds.

"No!" I screeched at her, but tried to calm down and make myself understood, "It is not me. There is a man in the forest. I could not drag him all the way." Her eyes widened at my words. I then noticed Mother standing in the doorway, a worried understanding on her face. I stored that information away for later questioning as she directed, "Wen, go back with your sister. I will prepare bandages and one of the beds for him."

I had already turned and was dragging Wen towards the green before Mother had finished speaking, she matched my breakneck pace and in a blur we were at his side. He was now unconscious and breathing shallowly, his face was ghostly white and I knew he did not have long. Wen gasped loudly when she saw his injuries and I instructed her, "Do not touch his hands. Take him from the forearm and wrap your other arm around his waist." We hoisted him up and slowly returned to the cottage. When we entered I saw that Mother had somehow dragged my mattress from our loft bedroom close to the fire and was busy ripping old sheets into strips. She quickly stood and helped us carefully maneuver him to the bed.

My mind was racing wildly, as I scrambled into the kitchen and searched my herbal cabinet for anything I had made that winter that could aid him. I grabbed three or four jars and rushed back to his side, seeing the look in my eyes, Mother and Wen had backed away a little and started ripping more bandages. I had spent a few of the previous summers with the wise woman of Coedbryn and she had taught me as much as she could about herbal remedies. I employed all of my knowledge as I tended him, carefully soaking and wrapping every bandage.

It was well into the night when I had finished, Mother and Wen had long been in bed, but had left me the bathing tub full of soapy water. The temperature was tepid at best, but I gratefully washed his blood from my body, hair and face and I enthusiastically donned a fresh dress and skirted close to the fire to dry myself completely. When I finally became warm again, I went to the closet and took out a blanket. Placing it on the floor next to his mattress, I laid myself down and kept my eyes on his face until I fell into slumber.

When I awoke, it was still dark and I found myself staring into eyes more blue than the Bear's had been. His well-sculpted face was still abnormally white and his dark hair was matted and stringy from the blood, making it an indeterminate color. But his eyes, his eyes were the blue of my dream, a deep royal blue that reminded me of a mountain lake at midnight or the center of a dark lily. As a gazed into them I wondered who this stranger was and what trials could have befallen him that he had sustained such wounds.


	7. A Name, A Tale

Chapter 7

A Name, A Tale

I woke in an unfamiliar place. It had been so long since I had spent the night in a house that for a few moments I thought I was dreaming. When I did realize I was not still asleep, I tried to take in my surroundings. It was dark, so it must have still been night. The first floor was one room and spacious, but only because of the limited amount of furniture. There was a small kitchen in the back corner and a large table that seemed to serve as preparation and eating surface. A large amount of white cloth and open jars had been scattered over it, as if in haste. There was a bed in the opposite corner on which laid a sleeping form, near the end of this bed a ladder was suspended, leading, I assumed, to a second floor or loft.

I heard movement and a soft sigh from my other side and I nearly jumped out of the bed in surprise. Turning, I saw another sleeping form next to me, quite close. She was laid on just a thick blanket, thrown on the floor, the bottom draped over half of her legs. I looked on her face and realized with shock that it was the white and red haired woman of my dreams. Laying there she seemed but a girl. Flashes of memory went through my head; the girl kneeling in a dark pool, a warm but concerned smile on her face, the girl's face inches from mine as she held her apron to my mouth, the girl looking up at me, concern and pity in her gaze.

I struggled to remember how I had made my way into her home as she began to stir. I knew I had been searching for something, but I forgot even that when her eyes finally opened. In the moonlit dark of the cottage her eyes were pools of shadow, but they lit brilliantly when she smiled at me and whispered, "So, you are awake, Stranger. You must be very thirsty." I nodded at her, not even thinking to speak. And she quietly rose, going into the kitchen and returning with a ceramic cup filled with cool water. As I swallowed it, my mouth felt strange, but I could not discern why.

The girl spoke softly again almost to herself, "Now what shall I call you? Wen got to name the Bear, it is only fair that I…" but I no longer heard her. The Bear, my brother, I sat up and tried to cry out his name, but found I could not. And the rest rushed back to me, father, the Dwarf King, my tongue, my hands. I let out an anguished groan as I raised my newly bandaged hands to my eyes. The girl quickly bent over me, asking about the pain. But I barely heard her, I was cursing myself a fool over and over in my head. Tears were coursing down my face and I realized my hands were shaking.

Suddenly small, soft hands were moving up my arms and across my shoulders in a comforting caress. She pressed her body against mine, warmly embracing me, whispering reassurance in my ear. I felt myself calming down, the tension leaving my body. She pulled back from me slightly, "Oh, you brave man, what could have happened to you? Who gave you these wounds, these memories that tear at you?" she paused and seemed to come to a decision. "Leander. I am going to call you Leander. It is from one of Mother's mythology books. It means brave. Do you like it?"

I nodded slowly, she still had her arms wrapped around me and I had placed my unusable hands loosely around her waist. She seemed to realize where she was and gave me a small uncertain smile before speaking again, "I had better get a head start on breakfast. We have another mouth to feed now. It will be light soon, Mother and Wen wake early. I am usually the one to sleep late." At that she gave me another brilliant grin and rubbed my shoulders one more time, almost absently, before standing up.

I suddenly felt extremely tired and laid myself back down on the mattress. Everything began occurring in a dream-like haze. I heard other movements around the small cottage; footsteps down the ladder, sheets being folded and beds being made, the girl moving things about the kitchen. I thought dimly about the small family; a mother…, a widow, and two daughters. Was this the home in which Mahon had spent the winter? Was that the girl who he had fallen for? She was certainly beautiful. As my muddled thoughts turned more fully to her, she again appeared at my side, "We made some porridge. Can you eat it?" I nodded again and tried to think of a way to sit up without my hands. I did not know how I had managed it before. It was probably the momentum from my shock. "Oh," she said realizing my dilemma, "Wen, help me get Leander to sit up."

"Leander?" A voice cam from the direction of the kitchen, and a body to match a moment later, "Is that what you have named him, Lyn? How appropriate." I felt my eyes widen. They were the same girl, she was the fair one, the light one, they were both beautiful. She smiled, nearly the same as her sister but somehow more sad, more subdued. _Oh Mahon_, I thought, _this is your treasure. Even I can see she is far more valuable than Mother's jewels._ She walked around to my other side and together they brought me to a sitting position.

The dark twin, her sister had called her Lyn, stayed to spoon the porridge into my mouth. It was difficult to swallow and embarrassingly messy, but somehow I ate most of it. While she was feeding me I studied her. Her hair was a dark red-brown, soft and curling in loose ringlets down her back, held in a thick braid with a few short tendrils escaping and falling over her face. Her skin was healthily tanned and smooth. Her eyes in daylight were a deep brown, sparkling and lively, large and round, framed by a myriad of dark, red tinted lashes.

When I finished, she gave me another of her warm smiles and said, "You should rest some more, Leander. I have to go back to the forest to replenish my herbal supplies, but Mother will be here if you should need anything." I gave a half-hearted nod, strangely sad to see her leave, but I could tell her energy was stifled indoors. She turned and grabbed her sister's arm, practically dragging her mirror out the door. I could hardly wait to see her in the forest, in her element. I needed to get stronger and for that I needed rest.

I settled myself back down for a much anticipated nap when I heard the mother's footsteps coming in my direction. She stopped next to the mattress and knelt. She met my eyes and spoke quietly, "I see much of your Honored Mother in you, Prince."

My mind reeled as I processed her words. She gave me the same warm smile, passed on to her beautiful daughters and again spoke, "Rest easy, Prince, all will be explained. Let me tell you a story and maybe it will shed some light on the situation you, your brother and my daughters find yourselves in."

I nodded, wide-eyed once again and she began, "Once, in the hills of the east, there lived two young men, boys really, and they had been friends all of their lives. One was the son of a carpenter, tall and lean, but very strong, hair bleached nearly white from the sun's rays. His name was Conlan and he was raised carefully and honorably by his parents for he was their only son. The other was the son of sheepherders, but he was built like a blacksmith, great and hulking, ruddy brown hair curling on his head, chest, and arms. His name was Brody, the second born of many children, and he was often left to his own devises for guidance and care, to find them where he could.

"One lazy spring afternoon, the two boys took a walk in the forest beyond the sheepherders' fields and there they met a strange creature. He was short with a long gray beard, and seemed to be digging urgently for something buried in the corner of a sunny clearing. Conlan wanted nothing to do with this strange being, but Brody was curious and quietly bid his friend to stay a moment. The creature was nearing what he sought and discarded his tool to move the remaining earth with his gnarled hands.

"The fallen tool was shaped like an axe and a scepter merged, its gold and jewels sparkled in the sun, catching the eye. Without thinking, Brody swiftly took the scepter in his hands. As soon as another being touched his tool the strange creature turned, fuming.

'You do not know what it is you hold, puny boy,' he spat, voice almost shrill with ire. 'I am Dranek, King of Dwarves. You hold my Royal Scepter in your unworthy hands.' He then visibly calmed down and produced a false smile, 'Come boy, I will give you riches beyond your wildest dreams and you will be a king of men, if you give that back to me.' He paused for a moment and widened his guile ridden grin, 'Of course I will add one condition, to make the bargain a little more even.'

"Brody, the fool, nodded, greed twisting his young face into a mask not unlike the dwarf before him, he agreed vehemently, 'Yes, anything.'

"Impossibly, the Dwarf King's smile widened as he threw the boy a dingy sack. It fell at Brody's feet and glittering gold coins poured out. The dwarf spoke again, commanding, 'The bargain is made. You will give me your first born son to entertain my court on his twenty-first birthday. Make your way to the Castle Eisgairdin west of here. There you will find your destiny and there I will return to collect your debt.'

"He disappeared with a flash of light, leaving Brody with the sack of gold and Conlan standing dumbstruck behind him. The carpenter's son was shocked at the actions of the friend he thought he knew and promptly refused to have any more to do with the now wealthy man, saying, 'You have gained these riches through devious means. I implore you, use your wealth for the benefit of others, make good the evil by which you have acquired it.' Brody vehemently refused before the two angrily parted ways. Conlan returned to his parents' home and Brody journeyed into the west.

"Months passed and Conlan's life returned to normal until word reached is village that the young princess of Eisgairdin had taken an easterner for a husband and that she was pregnant with his child. Conlan knew who this foreigner was and wanted to journey and speak with him, but his father had taken ill and he could not leave. Two years later word came that the aged monarch of Eisgairdin had suddenly died. It was also reported that the princess and her husband had jointly ascended the throne. Conlan realized his childhood friend had come into power by treachery and deceit. He became determined to meet with his old friend and convince him to confess to his royal wife. He left the small village and his prosperous business behind to seek the sheepherder's son.

"Upon arriving at their Majesties' newly established court, Conlan was greeted warmly by his childhood friend, now named King Kail the Bear and his wife. The young Queen's name was Isolde, but her people called her the Dark Lily. She was a frail beauty and not suited well to child-bearing, making her first pregnancy a difficult one. Her raven black hair, always worn loose, fell in rolling waves for miles down her back. Her eyes were large and exotically blue and they adoringly followed her husband wherever he went. Conlan learned she no longer participated in the government as a result of her weakened physical condition. It had been taken over by her husband when she became pregnant.

"Conlan also met the young prince, Kail's first born, destined to be given to the Dwarf King. The Prince was the image of his mother, almost as if Kail had nothing to do with his birth. Conlan immediately adored the precocious young boy, a feeling that fueled his desire to confront Kail. The King had presented Conlan to his court as a visiting noble and the Queen introduced many of her Ladies to him, including her favorite companion, Myrna.

"Myrna came from an old nobility, nearly extinct from Eisgairdin, that were said in ancient times to have dealt in mysterious forces. Most of the old tales were exaggerated rumors, but one story was kept alive by the women of the family. This legend stated that some of the clan's young women still held a connection to the old power and were gifted with the ability to know her soul mate, her true love, when their eyes first meet. When Myrna looked into Conlan's eyes she felt this force and he was filled with such a powerful love for her that the legend was undeniable.

"Until that point Conlan had been repeatedly begging the King to reveal to the Queen the nature of his wealth and status. When he came to Kail to celebrate his newfound love for Myrna, the King threatened to keep the two apart if he did not cooperate with the deception. Fearful of loosing his beloved he reluctantly agreed and was given the rank of advisor in Kail's government.

"With the King and Queen's blessing Conlan and Myrna were married and a few months later both women were found to be pregnant. However over the passing months the King's secret began to gnaw at Conlan. One night, while in bed, he was no longer able to hide the truth from Myrna, he told her the King's secret, begging for forgiveness. She immediately granted it, but was faced with a dilemma of her own. Should she inform the Queen of their husbands' deceit?

"Having always been an honest friend, she felt she could not hide such crucial information from her best friend and Queen. It was the worst ordeal of her life to see the beautiful Queen's face crumple in anguish, hearing that her marriage, her love was based on lies and a facade. The King's punishment for breaking the silence was swift, Conlan was banished and Myrna was forced to choose her husband over her lifelong friend. It was not until weeks later that they heard the Queen had gone into early labor and died of complications not long after they had departed the castle. Myrna was heartbroken, blaming herself for the death of Isolde, but still they journeyed to the mountains of the north, outside of the rule of Eisgairdin.

"Conlan was also wracked with guilt, regretting his decision to reveal anything at all. Kail had not changed, and he had only succeeded in breaking the heart of the Queen. The two young lovers settled on the mountain a few miles from one of the smaller villages. Myrna was heavy with child and Conlan had grown ill with a coughing sickness, but they both worked hard to repair the small cottage they had found on the land.

"At midwinter Myrna gave birth to twin girls, one the mirror of the other, one light, one dark and Conlan, with the last vestiges of his strength planted two rose trees in the garden, one white, one red. He loved and cherished Rhoswen and Rhoslyn in the short time he had with them, for he died before the snows melted from the forest floor."

At this Myrna paused to wipe her eyes and wanly smile, "If the cursed dwarf had not taken your tongue you could tell me the half I do not know, Prince. I never did hear what the name of Isolde's second son, so I suppose Leander is as fitting as anything else my whimsical daughter could have chosen." She stopped when I began vehemently shaking my head at her and tried to motion to her, "You are not the second son?" I nodded at her and she said, "I realized the bear transformation was another of the dwarf's tricks but how did you…" she trailed off. I felt so useless, unable to answer her questions, but she smiled again at me, "Then you are Teirnan. Oh, my boy, I should have known, if only you had given me that mischievous smile I remember so well. You look so like your mother, Teir," she whispered, using a pet name only Mahon and Conroy knew, and a second time that day memories flooded my brain.

I remembered this woman. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had buried her with the rest of the memories of Mother, whose presence had been banished from court after her death. Myrna with the fiery, curling red hair, and kind, crystalline blue eyes, she was always smiling even when wiping a tear. I looked again at the woman before me, she looked older, and more tired. I realized she had been little more than a girl when I was small, so had mother, they had gone through so much, all for the greed of one man.

She put her hand, comfortingly, to my face. I realized there were tears rolling down, falling on my tightly bandaged hands. I did not know how long I had been clenching them. The wounds had reopened and red was seeping through the layers of white fabric. My helplessness suddenly overwhelmed me and I fell into her shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. She held me until I quieted and when I lifted my head I saw I had bled onto her dress from my mouth. I looked up at her guiltily, "Not to worry Teir," she smiled again, "It is nothing a little soap will not get out. Your wounds have reopened from all the stress of these revelations. You should rest now. My daughters will be back soon, and I think I will let them call you what they will for the time being. The less they are involved in these circumstances the better."

I nodded slightly, but thinking that they were already involved. But Myrna did not know this and I was too tired to find a way to tell her. She placed a cool hand upon my brow and whispered, "Sleep Teir, there is nothing you can do to help your brother until you regain your strength." I laid myself back down on the mattress and wished fervently for Mahon's safety before falling into a dreamless sleep.


	8. Strange Things

Chapter 8

Strange Things

Lyn's hand was still wrapped tightly around my wrist as we walked silently through our beloved forest. Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even. She navigated the forest without sight, she knew the way so well, so many days had been spent here. I realized guiltily that recently many of those days had been spent alone.

I had stayed indoors so often, trying to be close to Thanos as much as possible. The forest was not the same for me now that the Bear had left the cottage, left me. He had disappeared into the green. He had chosen it over me. Yesterday, I had wanted to rebel against it, to reject it like he had rejected me. Had Lyn not caught me by surprise when she dragged me from the cottage, I most likely would have tried to make some excuse. But now that I found myself where I had, it had been only yesterday, silently vowed to never return, I realized that I had been rash to vow such a thing. The forest had always been ours, Lyn's and mine. I should never have allowed my own heartbreak to nearly destroy a bond that was sacred to both of us.

I had long since ceased paying attention to my surroundings, and was surprised when I no longer felt the pull of Lyn's hand on my arm. But I smiled when I realized where she had taken us. The Duchess' great girth, her softly green tinged branches, perky with new growth, her wide trunk darkened by spring moisture, enveloped my vision. I looked to Lyn who was returning my contented smile with a brilliant grin as broad as the oak itself. I felt my smile widen to match my mirror. In the forest we barely ever had to speak, and I knew what she wanted to do. This is what we both needed.

I grasped her hand firmly and together we stepped up to the wide trunk. Simultaneously, we leaned against either side and we clasped our free hands, encircling the Duchess with our arms, trying to regain the feeling that had come over us that day, the first time our hands had touched. Tears welled in my eyes when I realized that feeling was reserved for that moment, and it would not come back.

"Oh, Wen," I heard the desperation in Lyn's voice, "I…I needed…That poor man, I can't get it out of my head. And I know that he is safe now…but…I just can not get rid of the fear," before she could say another word I spun around the trunk and caught her in a tight embrace.

"Lyn, what happened to Leander was inhuman. You cannot be expected to forget it after only a few hours." I moved my hands, soothingly across her back, echoing her own gestures from such a short time ago. But her body trembled with tension and strain.

"I was so calm and in control when everything was going on, and now I…I can not stop shaking. There was so much blood…I think I had dreams about it last night, but I can't remember…I don't know if I'll be able to sleep."

"Well, do not worry, love, because unless you want to sleep on the floor next to your patient again, you are stuck in my bed." I put on a brave face, "I will keep your nightmares at bay." She giggled slightly and was about to retort when she tensed again and scanned the trees warily. "What is it?" I whispered, but said no more when I heard the noise, the shuffling of leaves and a low, pitiful moaning. It seemed to be coming from further into the trees and was growing in volume. I looked to Lyn who was steadily staring in the direction of the noise, her face a study of cautious indecision.

"Lyn!" I admonished, ""We should at least go and investigate! What if it is someone hurt? Or in danger?" I shook my head at her callous suspicion and started walking towards the noise, hearing her audible sigh of defeat. I made my way through a copse of underbrush and came upon a small clearing, Lyn close behind. At the far corner of the clearing was a small man, with a pot belly and a long gray beard. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was concentrating so hard on his pitiful moans that he did not see us approach. A barbed wire snare encircled his right foot, shod in a dirt encrusted dun brown boot that was thick enough the barbs had not pierced his skin.

His constant moaning was beginning to get on my nerves as Lyn cleared her throat loudly behind me. The little man's eyes snapped open to reveal cunning coal black eyes that darted from me to Lyn and then back to me. After a short silence he began wailing at us, "Oh help me fair maidens, for I have caught my foot in a sly hunter's snare. The wire is too tight and too sharp for me too loosen."

I started towards him again, pulling a pair of clippers out of my apron and silently thanking mother for dropping them there in case we came across thick brush. I was more concerned with shutting the little man up than rescuing him from his mortal peril and was almost close enough when Lyn grabbed my arm again.

"What are you doing?" I nearly snapped at her, "I am just trying to cut the creature free!"

She looked at me earnestly, concern written on her face, "I do not like him, Wen. What is a snare doing here anyway? You know no one hunts this far north! And anyone who might hunt here does not use that horrible kind of snare," she ceased her irritated tirade when the little man began moaning again. It was horribly grating and I cringed but Lyn shouted over him, "What are you whining about anyway? It can not be that bad, the barbs have not even pierced your dirty little boot."

"Oh, fair maidens, sweet ladies, if you do not free me my poor wife and eight children will go hungry. Who will provide for them? Who will keep them safe from harm?" he wheedled and I think I may have spotted real tears on his dust caked face.

But Lyn would have none of it, "Eight children? I find that hard to believe, what woman would have you, you ugly little thing?" she spat.

"Lyn!" I was shocked by her vehemence, "What is wrong with you?" I couldn't understand her indifference, even if he was not telling the whole truth.

"I told you, I just don't like him." She said loudly, even though I was right next to her. The diminutive man had not stopped his infernal moaning and wheedling.

"That's no excuse!" The situation had begun to fray my nerves and I needed to act, quickly. I lunged forward and caught the sharp wire in the clippers, it snapped with a twang. At the same time Lyn snatched at the back of my dress and pulled me roughly backward. The little man, upon being freed had also lunged. He fell, prostrate, face in the dirt and leaves, where I had been only a moment before. I was amazed at the sequence of events, and looking at the object of my simultaneous pity and irritation, I began to giggle. Lyn quickly joined me and soon we were on the ground with him.

The laughter died when he angrily stood up, grumbling and dusting himself off. His efforts were for naught, he seemed perpetually filthy. He gave us both a look full of daggers, snapped the fingers of his right hand, and dove head first into a hole that appeared beside a large rock at the opposite corner of the clearing.

We stared at the spot where the void had disappeared just as quickly for what seemed like a long time. Lyn finally broke the silence, "Stranger and stranger things keep happening to us, Wen." I made some sort of noise in agreement, not quite ready to speak. "And you should not get so close to strange people."

I turned to her, not changing my astonished expression, "He was caught in a snare. You were there! Should we have just left him?"

"He lunged at you, Wen! What if he wanted to snatch you up and take you away? This forest has been kind to us, but we cannot afford to be careless."

In my head I knew she was right, but I did not regret my actions, "You distrust too easily, sister."

"And you are too naïve." I smiled, this was an old exchange between us. She swiftly scanned the trees again, as if waiting for something else unexpected to emerge, and stood, holding her hand out to me, "Now, let us find those herbs for Leander. We have been gone too long already."

I took her hand and we linked arms, in the manner we had been accustomed to since we were young girls, wandering through the forest. I turned my head, once more towards the trees behind us, thinking I heard or sensed another presence. But I dismissed it as imagination when I felt Lyn's familiar tug on my arm, I did not see anything there.


	9. Revelations

Chapter 9

Revelations

Our encounter with that troublesome little man bothered me for several days as I used the herbs Wen and I had collected to replenish my depleted supplies. I, as the healer of the family, ordered the recovering Leander to spend those days resting on my mattress, still positioned near the fire. I would watch him, out of the corner of my eye, sleeping, eating, or staring out the window. I wondered what he was thinking about, about how he had come into our lives, into my life.

After about a week I decreed that he would be allowed out of bed and to my surprise he left it without any aid. _He must have been stronger than I thought, but he did not protest my directions. He must have known his own strength, yet he still complied_, I mused. I could tell it had not been easy for him. As soon as he was up he became a ball of suppressed energy, striding around the close-quartered room, poking into everyone's business.

The problem was that because of his mangled hands, there was not much that he could do around the house. He could not help mother with the washing, or Wen with her spinning or sewing, and I was still working on my herbal remedies. I had bound his fingers and palms so thickly with bandages, for the terrible gouges had still not ceased to weep, he could not move them at all. I felt my heart wrench as his face finally fell, in disappointment and uselessness. Standing, silently as always, in the middle of the room he closed his eyes and I saw his hands begin to shake with despair.

I took action immediately, I knew he was about to lose control completely and I knew he would not want to draw attention. "Leander," I called from the kitchen absently, casting my eyes downward to look at the worktable, pretending I had not seen. "I forgot I would need a certain plant for this mixture," I looked up, trying for a natural smile, "I thought you would like to come with me to fetch it. You have not been outside for a long time and it is a beautiful day."

He looked lost for a moment then gave me his usual slight nod of assent. I smiled truly at him and dropped my apron on the table. I crossed the room for my herb basket which had been set next to the small bookshelf in the corner, secreting one of mother's old books in the basket, I turned and grabbed Leander's forearm. I pulled him out the door and into the waiting sunshine, but paused when I saw Wen emerging behind us.

"Don't worry Lyn," she stated when I sent her a questioning look, "I need more flour from the village, apparently my frantic baking the other day has depleted our stores," she gave us both a knowing smile and started in the direction of Coedbryn.

I shook my head slightly, confused about her mysteriousness. But I quickly recovered and smiled excitedly at Leander. He returned it mischievously and met my quick strides evenly as we exited the garden and stepped into the green. I did not speak for many minutes and I did not let go of his arm. I had my eyes closed, as was my habit when navigating the various paths I had trod throughout my childhood, but I opened them when his free hand lightly tapped my shoulder.

I turned to him and he smiled shyly, pointing questioningly to my herb basket. I was confused for a moment and then remembered, "Oh that, it was just an excuse…" I paused not sure of the best way to tell him I had seen him in his moment of weakness. "I thought you might want to get out of the cottage," I suddenly felt the need to touch him, to convey to him that I understood. "I did not really need anything from the forest," I clasped both of his thickly bandaged hands in my own and lifted my eyes to gaze into his midnight depths. He raised a hand to graze my cheek, the linen bandage was coarse, but his touch was soft, sending shivers down my spine and a flush to my face. His lips began to move, as if he were going to speak, "Thank you," he soundlessly mouthed.

Suddenly unsure of what to do, I looked down again at our joined hands, unfamiliar feelings swirling chaotically in my head. I wondered if this was something similar to what had happened to Wen with Thanos. I looked up into Leander's eyes and suddenly realized, "Your eyes, they are like the Bear's." He seemed taken aback by my words, but I continued anyway, "In fact, you are very like Thanos. I know that sounds silly, and you must have no idea what I am talking about but…it seems you both are not accustomed to being idle. I remember watching Thanos watch Wen or Mother about the cottage and he looked as though he would cross the room and help…and then what happened with Wen and him…" I realized I was now babbling and abruptly ceased. He looked at me, curiosity and concern in his midnight gaze, causing me to moan in frustration, "Oh, Leander! You must have no idea what I am talking about."

He shook his head slowly, and he mouthed the words, "Tell me," as I become conscious of the fact that our hands were still intertwined. I pulled away from him quickly, not know the reason for my agitation.

"Well, we might as well make ourselves comfortable, it is a long tale," I began a short trek to a nearby clearing and settled myself underneath a large oak, not many years younger than the Duchess herself. I leaned against the great trunk, closing my eyes, trying to calm myself. I could not understand what was wrong with me. My heartbeat quickened when I felt him sit down on one of the trees many exposed roots. _Oh_, I thought to myself, _how on earth did that happen? I've known him a week. _Another part of myself countered, _Why were you so concerned about him when he first came? What power drove you? Why did you weep afterward? _An even deeper, ancient part of me answered, _Love shows itself differently for each one of us. For your sister it was premonition and disorientation, for your Mother it was knowledge, for you it was strength. Now you must cope with it._

I tore my eyes open, disconcerted by the musings of my subconscious, and turned to him. He was looking at me expectantly waiting for me to begin, but his face transformed once again, expressing concern, when he saw the frightened look in my eyes. I began the tale before he could find a way to ask me what was wrong, "It was nearly midwinter, the night we heard a knocking on the door." And I finished with, "the next day was the day I found you in the wood."

The entire time I had been gazing at my tightly clasped hands, now I moved my eyes to his face. His expression was unreadable and I began fidgeting with my dress, the need to say something else, anything else, overpowering my baffling nervousness. I looked straight into the midnight depths of his eyes, "We have had two strangers in as many months, neither has spoken, but they have both changed us, Wen and I. She felt a connection to Thanos from the first night. I…I think the same thing has happened to me…I do not know what I would have done if you had died." Having stopped my speech, I realized that he was no longer on the root. At some point he had moved in front of me, and I had moved forward from the oak's trunk. We were both kneeling in the long grass and fallen leaves of the forest clearing, his arms about my waist, my left arm resting on his shoulder, my right hand pressed to his cheek. Our gaze was still locked and a feeling of certainty, of warmth, what I now knew was love, enveloped us both as I closed my eyes and our lips met.

They parted after a moment and I smiled blissfully, "Well, at least now I know how you feel, and I am wondering why I was nervous in the first place." He shrugged, smiling wryly and I threw back my head, joyously laughing as I tightened my arms about his shoulders. He pulled me closer to him, bending his head to kiss the base of my neck as something occurred to me, "Leander," I said hesitantly and he huffed loudly to let me know I had his attention, but he did not stop. I smiled, despite my growing concern, "I do not think we should go very much further, Leander." At that he pulled back, a disappointed frown marring his beautiful features, but I continued, reassuringly, "Until you are fully healed, of course," and he flashed me a foolish grin and went back to kissing my neck.

I closed my eyes and let the sensation flow over me, marveling at how things could have changed in only a few hours. "Hmmm," I began thinking, "We cannot keep doing this without it eventually getting out of hand. They will not expect us back for a little longer though. I brought one of Mother's books with me. Would you like me to read to you?" He reluctantly ceased, probably realizing I would not be convinced to let matters go any further, and nodded. I flashed him a smile and sat back down at the base of the oak, pulling him down next to me. He draped his arm around my waist possessively, and I pulled out the book from my basket.

"I didn't even check to see what book it was," I commented, then read the title, "Eisgairdian Folktales. It seems to be a book of fairy tales." Leander tensed beside me, and I turned to see his face. His brows were furrowed as if he were thinking hard, or trying to remember something. Swiftly, he took the book awkwardly in his bandaged hands and began trying to flip through it, desperation set in his features as he seemed to be looking for a certain story. He stopped finally, a pleased look transforming his face. He handed the book back to me. I saw that the bandages on his hands were laced with red in places.

"You are using your hands too much," I admonished, looking down at his hands. He just gazed back at me expectantly, "You want me to read this one, Leander? Bearskin?" I asked after a moment and he nodded solemnly.

I began reading the tale. It was not long, and concerned a soldier who made a deal with a devil in order to get riches. He had to go about for seven years wearing a bearskin and not bathing or cleaning himself at all. He became like a monster, but he was kind and wealthy so he survived. Four years into his journey he met an old man who promised him his daughter in return for a kindness. He fell in love her and she for him. He gave her half a ring and left for the rest of his wandering. He returned three years later and they were married and lived happily ever after.

After I finished the story I mulled over Leander's behavior, resting my head against his shoulder. "Was this story chosen in order to tell me something?" I asked him, quietly. He nodded solemnly and using his hand, moved my head to look at his face, "Thanos," he mouthed, "Bear."

I sat up quickly, "Leander, you know the Bear? He…he is a man? Like in the story?" At that he shook his head in negation. "No," I agreed, "It could not be like in the story, Thanos never spoke. He is…a bear and a man…transformed?" Leander nodded vigorously so I kept going, "And he made a bargain with a devil?" at that statement his face darken a bit, but he still nodded slightly. I reached out to him, moving my hands to caress his shoulders, understanding his frustration. I pondered all of the information I had to work with, "There must be something more to this. The Bear has left us. Why go to all the trouble of conveying this to me if there was not something I needed to know."

I tried to remember everything that had happened since Thanos had come into our lives, then Leander, then…I gasped, "That repulsive little man," I growled and Leander looked sharply at me, an urgent question on his face, "He met Wen and I in the forest, right after you came…" I trailed off. Leander took my face in both linen-wrapped, blood-stained hands, "Wen," he mouthed.

A shock ran through me, "That man is the devil that struck the bargain…and he is after Wen?" He bowed his head resignedly, sorrow and regret nearly emanated from him, "I knew we never should have gone near the little beast," I muttered darkly. I moved to raise his head to look at me, reassurance ready on my tongue, when I heard the terrible sound. It was something I had never heard before, but I identified it instinctively. I was the sound of my beloved Wen screaming.


	10. Thoughts and Fear

Chapter 10

Thoughts and Fear

Turning from Lyn and the mysterious Leander I took the well worn road from our cottage to Coedbryn, a smile still on my face. Despite the fact that Lyn herself did not know of their new circumstances yet, I had a very good idea of what would occur between those two in the wood that afternoon. I was no longer surprised by the fact that Lyn and I know each other better than we know ourselves sometimes.

My thoughts turned to my own circumstances, and I was still at a loss. Where had Thanos gone? Would he return to me? What was the nature of our connection? Every time I tried to make sense of what had happened to me, to us, I gave myself a headache. The only thing I knew for sure was what I discovered in his eyes the first night. He would take me from the mountain and I would go willingly, but I did not know when or how.

Chaotic feelings whirled in my head and I decided to change direction. _I need to see the Duchess, _I thought_, I need to collect my thoughts. I can buy flour tomorrow, Goodness knows we have enough bread and biscuits for at least a few days, _I smiled at my newfound method of diversion.

I turned abruptly, cutting through the thick green, trusting my sense of direction to guide me to our special place, the center of the forest for us. Had it been a few years earlier, I could have done it with my eyes closed, as Lyn still did. But I had spent more time at home in the years that Lyn began keeping almost exclusively to the forest. The wood was special for both of us, but for Lyn it was a second home. Mother needed another person in the house so I stayed behind, not really minding. I felt as though because of all the time I spent with Mother I grew to understand her better. Lyn, especially recently, was always angry at Mother for withholding information from us, but I found I could not be. Through the years of idle conversation I had gathered that at one time Mother had divulged some secret she felt she should not have. The resulting guilt had made her wary of doing so again. I could not be angry with her for trying to protect us.

I was nearly at the Duchess' clearing. Her massive branches, full of new spring growth, engulfed my vision before I even entered our sanctuary. As I came out of the dense underbrush, I heard a strange scuffling and tensed, sensing danger but not from where. My wood sense was not what it used to be, and as my eyes fell on the group of little but strong men standing in wait for me I knew it was too late for flight.

"We meet again, my pretty treasure," the oldest of the four or them stepped forward and spoke. He was the annoying creature Lyn and I had met only a week before, not far from where we were standing. He brandished his weapon, a type I had never seen before. Its head was spherical, like a scepter, but protruding from the sphere was an axe blade, sharp and deadly, the handle was long and bejeweled. The entire thing seemed to be made of gold. After a moment he began speaking again, "I will steal you from that worthless bear of a prince," my eyes widened at the reference, not quite believing what his words insinuated, but still he continued, "I will make you mine completely." At that he gave me the cruelest smile I had ever seen, his little coal black eyes glittering fiercely as he motioned his men forward.

They were all short and stocky, and I realized suddenly what they were. From the legends and fairy tales of the eastern lands, little men, fierce in battle and greed, that hail from under the ground, reveling in the riches of their domain and bargaining with mortals, they were Dwarves. Judging by the weapon of my annoying acquaintance, he was their King. His henchmen were slowly advancing on me, spreading out to surround. The Dwarf King lifted his scepter higher, pointing it straight at my heart. I felt my body, my joints and muscles go still of their own accord. I could not move at all, and fear gripped my heart brutally. I tried to call out the Bear's name, but it took all of my strength to move my mouth enough to make any sound at all. I let out a scream that reverberated through the unnaturally silent forest, catching the dwarf by surprise. He did not let it last long, firmly snapping my jaw shut with a twist of his scepter.

My heart was pounding frantically in fear, as I heard a roar of outrage off in the distance and Lyn desperately shouting my name. I looked to the Dwarf King, something of hope and triumph in my eyes. His leering gaze did not waver, still gripping that scepter tightly in his stubby fingers, and I suddenly realized. The horrible little creature had wrought much evil with that glittering instrument and whatever he had done had affected us all. I saw what had to be done.


	11. In the Clearing

Chapter 11

In the Clearing

We arrived at the great tree's clearing just as Mahon came tearing through. I had not seen him since he was first transformed, when he still held an aura of humanity about him. Now he was every inch the powerful beast that the dwarf, the object of his terrible anger, had transformed him into. His eyes were wild with fury, and to my surprise, nearly all brown. Only a glimmer of our Mother's deep and vibrant blue shone through the veil of the bear. I had not realized that the villain's magic would so utterly transform him.

Lyn and I had skidded to a halt as we came to the entrance of the clearing, shock ran through me as I stood and watched my younger brother violently attack the Dwarf King's terrified men. The villain himself was positioned near the massive oak, his vile weapon in his hands, positioned defensively. Wen was standing rigidly before him, her face astoundingly calm. The Dwarf's beady black eyes were darting from each threat warily, almost nervously, and he seemed at a loss of what to do, the situation having undoubtedly spun out of his control. I smiled triumphantly at his incompetence, wondering at the intelligence of the Dwarven race that such a fool would be their King.

Mahon did not pause in his tirade for a moment. After the underlings had been run off he turned his attention back to the so-called King. Lyn, apparently anticipating Mahon's actions, swiftly approached her sister from behind. As my brother used his powerful forepaw to strike the Dwarf King's scepter from his filth-encrusted hands, Wen was freed from whatever spell the fiend had used and Lyn pulled her roughly back, away from the now battling figures.

I stood idle as these events unfolded, my uselessness engulfing me once more. I had no weapon, no way to protect those that I love. The Dwarf King's scepter had fallen, as useless as I, but I saw Wen pull herself free of Lyn's protective restraint.

Lyn, eyes wide with fear and concern, suddenly spoke to her mirror, "Wen, the Bear, he's not just…" but she was cut off abruptly.

"I know, sister," Wen spoke softly but audibly. An aura of knowledge and assurance seemed to permeate the air around her. Her eyes blazed, blue and clear as a mountain spring, the ribbon that held her nearly white curls back from her face had fallen, leaving them to sway in the breeze that wound its way through the green.

"Thanos! Stop," she shouted to my brother who had backed the Dwarf into a corner of the great clearing and pinned him against a large boulder. Upon hearing her voice he ceased his clawing and growling instantly, heeding her command. She stepped forward, slowly and calmly bending to retrieve the Dwarf King's weapon. She walked to the boulder, brandishing the scepter, raising it high above her head and brining it crashing down upon the skull of the Dwarf, simultaneously fracturing the instrument of death on the solid rock.

Three brilliant flashes of light burst forth, searing my eyes. I felt the blaze surround me as heat enveloped my hands and mouth, closing the wounds, taking away the constant pain. As the light dissipated the linen bandages fell from my hands and I used my restored tongue to lick my smiling dry lips. The Dwarf was dead and I could not wait to speak her name.


	12. Introductions

Chapter 12

Introductions

I was still on the forest floor, where Wen had left me, after that blinding light had faded. I was frozen with shock from my sister's uncharacteristically violent actions. I had forgotten Leander in my preoccupation with Wen's safety and now scanned the clearing for him. Still on the ground I was about eye level with his feet, and my gaze fell on discarded red-stained bandages.

Confused, I lifted my eyes to his beautifully smiling face, "Oh, Lyn," his lips moved and I heard his voice for the first time. It was low and deep, soft and full of love. I pulled myself to my feet, swiftly as he grasped my hands with his own. I looked down at his restored hands in wonder, fingering them for a moment before raising each one to my lips and planting soft kisses. "Leander…how…your wounds…" I found I could not complete a sentence before kissing one of his perfect hands. My thoughts were jumbled with unanswered questions, but thankfully he did not remain silent for long.

"…were caused by the Dwarf King's scepter, that your sister has shattered," he finished for me, his voice warm and magical, oh how I loved the sound of it. "More than one spell has been broken by Wen's bravery," he continued, using his hand to guide my gaze across the Duchess' clearing to see my mirror striping the fallen dwarf's cloak and tenderly placing it over a crouching naked man. Wen helped the man to his feet and he began speaking softly to her. Leander continued as I turned my gaze back to him, "She has also freed my brother, Mahon, who you knew as Thanos the Bear. I am Tiernan, Crown Prince of Eisgairdin in the south, and I am very pleased to have my tongue back, for a number of reasons."

I smiled at him, relief and happiness flooding through me, "Thank God she doesn't have to wait three years for him," I said without thinking, but he laced his fingers through mine and laughed merrily. I had never heard him do such a thing, and the sound filled me with wonder as he lifted my hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon my knuckles.

"And how long must I wait for you?" he said softly and I could not resist the urge to have more fun.

"If you cannot recognize when you have had something in the palm of your hands for nearly a week, then you don't deserve me," I said with a pout, trying to remove my hand from his grasp.

He smiled wickedly, "I have only recently regained feeling in my hands, my dear. What is it that I have?"

"My heart, silly Prince," I returned softly, reaching around and pulling his head down to kiss him soundly.

He broke the kiss after a moment, still keeping our faces a hair's breadth apart, "Ah, however much I would like to be distracted by this, I must speak with my brother." I pulled away reluctantly, stepping back to allow him some time with his brother. But he clasped his hand in my own and together we walked across the clearing.

"Tiernan!" the young man who had until recently been Thanos cried, "I thought I saw you but I wasn't sure."

"Well, you were busy," Teirnan smiled again. Before when he smiled it was to answer a question, to make a statement, now it was to express his happiness, his joy. It was a different type of smile, one that I loved. The sun shone through the Duchess' green branches, his hair glistened, waving raven black and ruffled by the breeze. He idly wrapped his arm around my waist and I leaned into him, finally turning my gaze to Wen. I met the eyes of my sister, so different, yet the same. She leaned into the younger prince and we only smiled at each other, not needing to speak.


	13. Homecoming

Chapter 13

Homecoming

I sat silently in the King's sitting room, Wen's small white hand in mine, wondering how circumstances in Eisgairdin could be the same yet so different, how they had changed so quickly. I had spent nearly a year of my life as a creature of the forest. The transformation to and from the form of a bear had happened in an agonizing blink of an eye, but there had also been a gradual change to the mindset of the beast. I do not think anyone except Wen truly understood the nature of the Dwarf King's primitive spell and how close I had been to completely forgetting my humanity. I would not have them know anyway.

Tiernan would never forgive himself if he truly understood the danger I had undertaken, he thought that he should have been the one. I remebered when he told me all that had happened after I left Eisgairdin. He had looked so sorrowful and dejected as he literally begged for my forgiveness in the private darkness of the cottage's loft bedroom. It seemed as though he were apologizing for even the Dwarf's bargain and the transformation itself. I knew why he acted the way he had and he knew and regretted his own actions. There was nothing else to forgive and I told him so.

I understood that it had to have been me. I had used what methods I learned in my years of solitary study to keep the spell from completely transforming me as long as I could. Tier would not have been able to. In the spring it grew increasingly difficult to keep to my task. It was only by thinking of my beloved that I was able to cling to myself.

But my task was now over and Tier and I had returned to confront our Honored Father with his deceit and his greed, only to find a senile old man, coughing and moaning on his death bed. We went into the royal chamber together and spoke quietly of what had happened in the north. He did not recognize us at all and only responded to the tale when we told him we had found Myrna, our Mother's companion.

When we revealed she had returned with us and Conlan's daughters he began thrashing about, screaming that the traitors would expose his secret, demanding they be brought to him, sentencing execution for breaking their banishment. The doctors rushed in, Tier stormed out. I watched him go, waiting for the report from the physicians. Through the swung open door I saw Lyn walking swiftly after him. She was his perfect match, an indomitable spirit. I knew she would make a good Queen.

Tiernan had her by his side when our return and respective betrothals were announced. Wen and I stood hand in hand to their right, Myrna on their left. Many of the old nobility remembered Myrna well and all the announcements were surprisingly well received by the court. Conroy explained to me later that they had gone through a remarkable transformation after the fall of our father and even more after Tiernan had gone after me. Many Lords and first sons had come in from the provinces, shocked to learn how Kail's government had been run. Luckily, Tier and later my old tutor had been able to placate them and ensure such mistakes would never be made again, steering the country away from civil upheaval.

Lyn, Wen, and Myrna wasted no time in taking the household in their iron grip. The daughters learned from their mother what was expected of them and nearly twenty years away from life in a castle had not affected Myrna's formidable skills. One of Lyn's first undertakings was to have the twin rose trees transplanted from the cottage to the castle gardens. She planned and planted herself, taking charge of the royal gardeners with little trouble. In this way Lyn gained the respect of the household staff and through gossip the interest of the court. Tier told me often how proud of her he was. I could not have been happier for them.

The door to the royal chamber swung open, softly creaking as Tiernan stepped through looking gravely at the private court assembled outside the King's sickroom. Conroy and my brother's new small group of advisors looked up from their subdued conference. Myrna quietly dismissed the servants and silently closed the door behind them. Lyn, who had been sitting at the window, surveying the progress of her gardens, swiftly stood and began crossing the room. He spoke before she reached him, Wen's hand tightened about my own, "He's dead." I looked away, I would not mourn him. He had not cared for us, only for his greed. His tyranny had cost us our Mother. An unwanted tear rolled down my cheek, I mourned for her and the family life I would never know.

Wen's arm reached around my shoulders and she leaned against me as Lyn went to Tiernan's side. He took her hand, softly caressing her cheek gratefully but quickly assuming his public mantle as Conroy stepped forward to speak, "My Lord Prince, when shall we schedule your coronation?"

"We shall hold a combination wedding and coronation in a week's time, Conroy. The Lady Myrna will be in charge of planning mine and her daughter's wedding and I place you in charge of preparation for the following coronation. Let all know I would rule jointly with my wife, an honor and privilege that was unjustly denied our previous Queen," at that he turned to Lyn with a mildly sheepish grin on his face. They had obviously not previously discussed that aspect of their impending public nuptials. She gave him a beatific smile and inclined her head slightly in mute acceptance. I smiled, again thinking what a good Queen my brother had chosen as his hand tightened around hers. He spoke again, this time in dismissal, "Preparations are to begin as soon as possible."

As Wen and I stood to follow the others from the room, Tier motioned for us to stay. He and Lyn settled themselves on the plush divan opposite from where we were sitting. I smiled ruefully at my brother, "What plans are shaping in that kingly head of yours, Tier?"

"Not kingly quite yet, Mahon," he chuckled, continuing with his mischievous smile, "We were just wondering about your plans, brother. When do you plan on marrying this fine lady? What will you do afterwards?"

"To tell you the truth, I had not really thought about it. Things have been changing rapidly around here and I…" I paused, trying to find the right words, "I am not really sure of my, of our place in it."

"I am sure that we do not desire as public a wedding that you two must have. We should wait until after the coronation to hold our ceremony. Something small, only family," Wen put in, placing her hand on my arm.

Lyn laughed, "Well then, it will be very small indeed, sister. But still, what will you do afterwards?"

"You will have an indefinite welcome in Eisgairdin, of course," Tier continued, "but you must want to set up a household of your own. You will not want to live under our shadow."

"I have been doing that my whole life, Tier," I returned with a chuckle and he rolled his eyes. "But I understand what you mean. You must have something up your sleeve. What is it?"

He smiled mischievously again, "I want to give you Hafodan."

"What?" I had not expected this.

"I want you to govern the province. Establish your household there. Lyn and I will still hold court there in the summer, it is tradition, but I need someone in charge throughout the year, to govern the people, to encourage commerce and trade. Father used to keep it shut up in the winter, leaving the citizens to the whims of the local town council and as I understand it, they are quite corrupt. You will have a large task on your hands but we will see each other often and you will have a place of your own," I smiled again, he was obviously desperate to sell me on the idea. _Well, who else can he trust to do it?_ I thought.

I turned to my betrothed, "What do you think, beloved?" I asked with an uncertain expression that she saw through right away. I wanted to laugh out loud at Tier's crestfallen expression.

"Don't tease him, Thanos!" Wen exclaimed, using the bear's name in exasperation and cuffing me lightly on the arm.

"If I do not, then who will?" I promptly returned, rubbing my arm where she hit me.

She spoke sympathetically to my brother, "Of course we will go, Tiernan. We would not leave the people of Hafodan without governance. It is a splendid idea, thank you."

Tier smiled brilliantly at her, "Good." Turning to me, he frowned regretfully, "At least Wen holds the proper respect for me."

At that point, Lyn finally broke into hysterical laughter. It seemed she had been holding back for a while, "Do not fret, Mahon," she gasped, trying to stifle her giggles, "I will keep the great king humble when you are off doing his royal bidding." Tiernan chuckled softly, eyeing Lyn with feigned concern as she struggled to control herself. I wondered what the servants listening at the door thought we were doing.

Tier sighed, again turning to plans for the future, "Take as much time as you need after the coronation to depart for Hafodan. It would be easier to establish yourselves there if you are married when you arrive. You could find a priest or a notary on the journey." He smiled again, "Give us a few days notice and we will ride out with you, to attend the ceremony."

"We would not miss it for the world," Lyn interjected.

Wen smiled at her mirror as Lyn and Tier stood to leave, "A long way from the forest, sister. How do you think the plants are faring without you?"

Lyn raised her head haughtily, "As much as Mother admonished me for it, I never coddled those plants. They are thriving without me. Now if you will excuse me, I have a new garden to plan."

"And I have a new government to run," Tier added, "We shall leave you two to your own preparations." They exited the room hand in hand, still chuckling to themselves.

I turned to Wen as the door shut behind them. She had walked to the large window, overlooking the gardens. From behind her, my vision was engulfed by her curling flaxen hair, hanging loose to her waist. I stepped around, to her side. Myrna had ordered an entire wardrobe for her two daughters from the castle seamstresses and today, Wen had chosen a simple pale blue dress, trimmed at the bodice, sleeves and hem with delicate ivory lace. The pink-orange light of dusk reflected her form, casting the dress a somber shade of lilac and giving her skin a vibrant rosy flush. She looked other-worldly. Wen did not possess the bright flame of passion that Lyn would make a beacon for our people, but she burned with a quiet intensity that I would rely on for the rest of my life.

She turned to me, new resolve in her sky-blue eyes, "It is a good plan, Thanos."

I smiled, taking her hand in my own and raising it to my lips, "Yes. More than I had expected, sooner than I could have ever hoped." A thought struck me, and I mentally kicked myself for not mentioning it before, "Will you miss the forest and the mountain very much?"

"Not if I am with you," she replied immediately and my anxious countenance broke into a satisfied grin.

"Then we shall never part, my love," I vowed.

It was her turned to grin madly, "And there are trees at Castle Hafodan, are there not?"

"Oh, yes," I answered, "Father ran his hunt through it at least once a week during his stays."

"But the forest is not only used for hunting?" she asked as she raised her delicate eyebrows.

"You do know I have never been there?"

"Then we shall have to explore it together," she replied with that familiar dazzling smile as I wrapped my arms around her. At Hafodan there would be a myriad of things to change, to make better, a myriad of obstacles before us and we would meet them, together.

A/N: Now that you are done...TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!


	14. Final Author's Note

Just posting a final Author's note so that more people find out about my revisions and maybe I can attract more readers. But hey, how 'bout some questions for you guys to answer so that I can get some reviews w/ feedback…

How would you feel about another story from this world?

Another fairytale retelling…say, Bearskin (mentioned in ch 9)?

Who likes Labirynth fiction?

I've got a story in my head…would you be interested?

What do you think about my dialogue/description/characters/world development in this story?

…give me feedback…any kind will do!

Muah

Atsuibelulah


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